


Like if you Stayed

by resonatingkitty



Series: Writing Prompts or Short Fics [10]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:29:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonatingkitty/pseuds/resonatingkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know, I always wanted you to stay after. I'd like if you stayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like if you Stayed

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill on Tumblr. Prompt was "I'd like if you stayed" 
> 
> This is just purely fluff-relayed stuff. It's not related to the series with these two.

Dean huffs as he makes his way toward the elevator of the much to luxurious hotel, a hotel that he would, under different circumstances, have never stepped foot in otherwise. He always stuck out like a sore thumb in these sort of places, his leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and scuffed up boots standing out in among the business suits and fancy attire. 

He’s always cautious when he answers the call to come here, making sure to check and double check that he wasn’t recognized outside the hotel before he actually ducked inside. He has to be. He doesn’t want anyone to see him and connect the dots on who he’s there to see. Because he is there to see someone, someone he absolutely should not be seeing.

The elevator dings on his arrival to his floor, the metal doors sliding open smoothly. There’s only a few doors in the hall, it’s the very best rooms the hotel has to offer after all. Dean’s destination is the last one on the left.

He knocks the customary three times to tip the other off that he was there. He’s not standing in the hallway long before the doors being opened and he’s greeted by Brock Lesnar.

“Will you let me in already!” Dean snaps, already pushing his way into the room and out of the hall, where the potential for anyone to get off the elevator at any time is high.

Brock steps back, shutting the door once Dean’s in the room. Dean lets his gaze wonder the room. It’s not really a surprise anymore, the size of the room and the luxuries that it contains, he’s become accustomed to it in the last month.

“You’re late,” he narrows his eyes when Brock passes him on his way back to the couch, “I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming.”

“Got held up after the show, bein’ champ ‘n all. I got a lot of people wanting to talk to me.” Dean drops his bag and sinks into the soft couch cushions with a sigh.

Brock smirks at that, “Really? I would’ve never guessed that with your shitty personality and all.”

That smirk widens to a grin when Dean glares at him, growls, “Ha fucking ha. Go fuck yourself.”

“Not while I got you here,” Brock moves, pins Dean to the couch with his body.

Dean doesn’t offer much of a struggle even though he tries, exhaustion nearly overwhelming him when he tries to muster up the strength to at least be somewhat of a hindrance to Brock’s plans. His lack of struggling is apparent to Brock, who braces himself above Dean.

“How about this,” he says, threading fingers in Dean’s still sweat drenched hair that he hadn’t had a chance to wash since he came from the arena straight here because he was running late, “You go shower because I know you probably haven’t and you rest up and in the morning we’ll try this again when you’ve got enough strength to attempt to hinder me. Sound good?”

“What you’re not just going to fuck me and kick me out?” Dean’s only about half joking when he asks because that’s normally what happens more or less with them. He comes, they fuck, and he leaves. He’s never stayed, never been asked too and never offered too.

Brock snorts at the question but doesn’t answer. Instead he moves off Dean and pulls him to his feet. Dean’s ushered into the next room, a bedroom with a adjoining bathroom. Brock even grabs his bag for him.

Dean doesn’t say anything, shoots a suspicious glance at Brock before he takes his bag and digs through it for some clean clothes. When he goes into the bathroom, he makes sure the door is securely locked - not that it would do any good in the long run as Brock probably has a master key but still it was better than nothing. He takes a longer than normal shower, making sure to waste all of the hot water before he gets out to dry off and put on his clothes.

Brock’s waiting for him in the bedroom when he comes out. His earlier robe that he had on had been discarded and he’s standing shirtless in nothing but his boxer briefs. He grabs Dean, pulls him flush against his bare chest and leans down, connecting their lips. It’s a easy kiss, nothing demanding or dominating about it. Dean melts in it, melts against Brock’s warm frame and when Brock pulls back, he can’t stop the yawn in time.

“Come on,” Brock mumbles pulling Dean to the bed, stopping right at the edge to turn back to Dean and swiftly pull his shift over his head.

“Hey-” Dean starts to protest but Brock cuts him off with another quick, chaste kiss.

Dean’s pulled into the bed and is soon under the soft satin covers. His back is pressed against Brock’s chest and Brock’s got an arm curled around his waist. It’s not long before Dean’s drifting off, his breathing becoming rhythmic as it evened out.

“You know,” Brock’s voice is gruff in his ear, lips brushing the shell, “I always wanted you to stay after. I’d like if you stayed.”

Dean’s eyes fly open but he doesn’t say anything, pretends he’s asleep.

Brock doesn’t say anymore, simply presses a kiss to the side of Dean’s head and tightens his arm around Dean’s waist as he settles down. It’s not long until his breathing has evened out and he’s snoring softly.

Dean stares at the wall. “I…. I’d like it too.” he murmurs softly, leaning back into Brock’s warmth and closing his eyes.


End file.
